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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761437">Never Have I Ever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction'>PastPresentFiction</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drinking, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Never Have I Ever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:35:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastPresentFiction/pseuds/PastPresentFiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Negan's brought Evelyn Grimes back to the Sanctuary along with Daryl.  While Daryl is who knew where, Evie plays a game with Negan...But just who is going to win?  And what constitutes a win?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Negan (Walking Dead) &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was SUPPOSED to be a one-shot, but damn it if it didn't take on a life of its own.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was sitting across from the devil himself. At least that’s what they’d all told me. All of my friends. All of my family. They all considered him Satan incarnate. I had my doubts.</p><p>“Rick the Prick has a sister.” He was studying me as I studied him. Here in his domain. Here where I’d been brought along with Daryl when he’d murdered Abraham and Glenn. Daryl, taken because of his temper, me for God knew what reason. Possibly just another dig at my older brother. I didn’t answer Negan. It wasn’t a question, and I felt that Rick’s confirmation of who I was to him pretty much covered it. “Bet you’re wondering why you’re here.”</p><p>“Mildly curious.” I answered, taking in the man sitting before me. He was more at ease here, in his apartment. The leather jacket gone, the red scarf tossed too. Just him, me, and that fucking bat still coated in Abe and Glenn’s brain matter and blood. “More curious about where Daryl is right now.”</p><p>Negan’s eyes narrowed as he considered what I was saying. “You and the redneck?” I smiled. Oh, he wanted to know if Daryl and I were a thing.</p><p>“Does it matter?” I asked, thinking that the best way to learn what this entire deal was would be to question him, subtly.</p><p>“Makes it funnier,” he shrugged and my eyebrow arched in annoyance. “He’s fine.” He waved off the topic of Daryl. “You’re not curious why you’re here?”</p><p>I tilted my head. Waiting. And we sat together in silence. I didn’t want to break it first. Not give him that power, the power to force me to jump to his commands. I wanted him to get that me and my people weren’t to be dismissed or trifled with. That we weren’t his playthings. That he wasn’t my boss, my god, or my master.</p><p>He sat back, the leather couch making a slight crunching noise that denim on leather makes. “Curious about good ole Daryl, but not about your own fate. That’s ballsy, princess.” I shrugged. “What if,” his hands tented into a V shape under his chin, watching me and contemplating his next words. “What if I brought you here for-” I catch his eyes flick toward the bed. And I snorted. Hard.</p><p>“Sex?” I laughed, long and hard. “What if you brought me here to fuck? Oh that IS hilarious. Are you hard up, Negan? Have to take women hostage so they can come play in your bed?”</p><p>He watched me laugh and it was a real true laughing fit. This terrible, evil man was trying to insinuate that he brought me, Eveyln Grimes, here to screw. Jesus, I hadn’t found something so funny in so long I felt almost hysterical. I got my shit under control as he waited, surprisingly patient, hands still tented.</p><p>“You done?” I nodded, feeling a hiccup build. “Trust me when I say I am NOT hard up.” I raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I’m not, sweetheart, in fact I’ll take you to meet my wives later.”</p><p>“Wives?” I snorted again, another laughing fit threatening to hit. “Dear God, I don’t know which scenario is more pathetic, a man with NO game, or a man who thinks he has TOO MUCH game.” I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair. “Now I am curious. Why am I here, oh great and wondrous one?” I was holding back another eruption of giggles, but just barely.</p><p>His eyes narrowed. Clearly he was finding me more than a little irritating. Good. I wanted to piss him off. I wanted to make him see that I wasn’t just some girl he could crook his finger to and I’d come running. The fucking nerve of him. Even if there wasn’t a tiny voice reminding me that he’d just murdered two of our people, I wouldn’t show him fear.</p><p>“Tell me about yourself.” A command, loud and clear.</p><p>“No.” Just as loud, just as clear. My arms crossed over my chest and I got comfortable. He could put me wherever Daryl was, he could fucking kill me at this point, but he wasn’t going to get me to jump just because he said to.</p><p>A raised eyebrow and his hands moved to lay on top of his thighs. The movement forced my eyes down, to see that fucking bat sitting on the table between us. “You’re not being very fucking cooperative, princess.”</p><p>“I’m also not a fucking princess, but that fact doesn’t seem to bother you.” I tossed back. I hated being called ‘princess’ by anyone. My own father didn’t do it.</p><p>He was chewing on his words again. And I really wanted to see him lose it. The confidence, the coolness. I wanted him to be fucking irritated to the point I’d be shunted out of his presence and hopefully imprisoned near Daryl. Harder to get an escape planned if I didn’t know where he was.</p><p>“Let’s play a game.” I rolled my eyes, what were we twelve? “I’ll even let you pick.” He stood up and walked to a small bar I hadn’t noticed behind his sofa. He was fussing with the bottles, and I had a flash of an idea. Fuck, if I could get his ass so damn drunk that he didn’t know which end was up, then I could possibly get the hell of this room.</p><p>“Never Have I Ever.” I said, and he looked at me like I’d lost my mind.</p><p>“Never have you ever what?” Oh, he truly didn’t fucking know the game. “Played a game?”</p><p>I shook my head. “No, it IS a game. Grab a couple of shot glasses and whatever stupid nasty rotgut you’ve got piled over there and we’ll play it.”<br/>He smirked. “A drinking game?” Clearly he was taking in the fact that I’m barely five foot tall barefooted and just over a buck twenty pounds. Yes, underestimate me, Negan. Please.</p><p>I nodded and he grabbed a few bottles and juggled two glasses. Sitting them on the table between us, I waited until he’d re-seated himself. I explained the rules, and he nodded his understanding.</p><p>“You can even ask the first ‘never have I ever,’” I offered, thinking it would tell me more about where his mind was anyway. “But first we have to pour the drinks.” And so we did.</p><p>“Never have I ever been married.” He drank, clearly understanding, yet misinterpreting the rules. Look, if it got his ass drunk first, then I’d roll with the rule breaking. I didn’t take a drink. An eyebrow from him, and I rolled my eyes.</p><p>“Never have I ever been into science fiction.” Fuck it, let’s start easy. He drank and I snorted. Negan as a nerdy geek wasn’t something I was prepared for. “Trek or Wars?” I asked, knowing just enough lingo to get by.</p><p>He smirked. “Never have I ever gone to a renaissance fair.” He didn’t drink, but I did. “Hark who’s shaming.” I grinned. Ok, so we’re both nerds.</p><p>We kept up the easy lobs, I found out that he liked Trek better than Wars. That he was into classic rock, but wasn’t completely against newer music (before the world went to hell and creativity died). I found out that Negan was strangely normal. He’d taught PE in a high school. He learned that I hadn’t been in touch with my family for a few months prior to the outbreak. That I hadn’t known that Rick and Carl had survived until they showed up in Alexandria. He knew that I preferred mint green to pink, that my car had been a restored ‘67 Mustang and I missed the car more than I missed most people. It was time to go down to the scary ones. And we were both far too sober.</p><p>“Never have I ever raped someone.” I offered and he didn’t drink. That was a surprise, I guess.</p><p>“Why fuck someone who doesn’t want to? Why violate someone when there’s always a willing partner just down the way?” He offered, but there was a sharpness in his eyes. “I’d kill anyone here who tried it.” Well, that calmed some of my tension. “Never have I ever killed someone before this shit started.” I know what he meant, before the world went to shit. I knocked back another drink and this time his eyes went wide.</p><p>“What?” I asked, going for a nonchalant air, but it fell flat even to my own ears.</p><p>“Why?” He asked, and I was going to fight answering. It wasn’t his turn. But fuck it, why not?</p><p>I sighed. “My job, Negan, that’s why.” And he was still staring. “Allow me to introduce myself properly.” I stood up and at attention, ramrod straight. “Captain Evelyn Grimes.” I didn’t salute, he wasn’t my commanding officer. “I’d just taken a position in Washington when shit went to shit.”</p><p>He was staring at me as I sat back down. Looking at me like he’d never seen someone like me before, which he probably hadn’t. “Which branch?”</p><p>“Army.” I answered. “I liked that one quote from the poster, ‘Join the Army; travel to exotic, distant lands; meet exciting, unusual people and kill them’.” I shrugged. Could we be done now? He nodded to himself and I took it as a go. “Never have I ever been handcuffed.” I didn’t drink and neither did he. Weird, figured at least some woman would have done it to him at some point to get him at her mercy, if he hadn’t gotten on the wrong side of the law.</p><p>“Never have I ever-” Negan stared at me and I knew he was trying to decide the best route. “Given a lap dance.” Shit, I drank. His eyebrow raised. “Why, Miss Grimes, that’s a fucking surprise.”</p><p>Rolling my eyes, and swallowing past the burn of the dark liquor I’d shot down, I smirked at him. “If that surprised you, then you might not fucking survive the game.” Then taking stock of him, my grin grew. “Never have I ever had a lap dance.”</p><p>His dimples came out in full bloom as he took his own drink. “Doubt that surprises you much.” He offered, as he savored his drink. “Never have I ever flirted with a teacher.” I waited to see if he took a drink from his own glass, because I highly doubted he’d be able to stop himself. When he didn’t I rolled my eyes and took my own. “Damn, dirty little thing aren’t you?”</p><p>“I think you should have drank too,” I squinted at him. “Never tried to get a little Mrs. Robinson action in school?” He laughed, and it was the strangest thing I’d ever heard. A laugh from his mouth, his mocking hateful mouth, and it was almost musical.</p><p>“Nah, I preferred the sure bets.” I chuckled. Yeah, his ego wouldn’t have taken the hit of an older woman turning down his ass flat. “Did you only flirt?”</p><p>“It’s not your turn, Negan.” His eyes widened. Too bad, not his turn. “Never have I ever kissed someone that was my own gender.” Neither of us drank, damn it. I’d hoped, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t get it.</p><p>“Never have I ever slept with a teacher.” Damn it. I took a drink. “Seriously, dirty little girl.” Were his eyes twinkling? Asshole. “It’s not my turn, but fuck if I don’t want to know more.”</p><p>“What’s to know? I like older men.” I shrugged. “Never have I ever had a threesome.” I hadn’t, I don’t like to share or be shared. Since he had WIVES I assumed he’d drink. When he didn’t, I was annoyed. “Seriously? You have a harem and you’ve never decided to double dip at one go?”</p><p>He shook his head. “I like to keep my focus on what I’m doing.” Getting yourself off, I supplied. “More than one target and my attention isn’t where it should be.” On yourself. “Never have I ever been caught fucking.” We both drank, and I had to laugh.</p><p>“You’re gonna get yourself hammered, Negan, asking those questions.” I raised an eyebrow, and considered my next. “Never have I ever watched someone fucking outside of porn.” He drank, I didn’t. Voyeurism wasn’t something I aspired to. I was smirking, certain that while he didn’t partake in threesomes, that he might expect entertainment from the wives.</p><p>“Not them.” He offered, clearly reading the smirk for the thought that it came from. “Just got lucky a few times.” He winked and I rolled my eyes. “Never have I ever been fucked for an audience.” Different from being caught, he wanted to know if I’d done it for fun. I drank and his eyebrow nearly left his face. “Damn, Captain Grimes, I may have underestimated you.”</p><p>I swallowed the sip and glared into my glass. “This shit is disgusting.” It was, but not because it was homemade or because it was bad quality. I just hated brown liquors. “Never have I ever-” I tilted my head to study him. “Fucked the enemy.” Neither of us drank. “Glad to know that I won’t be the first to shoot your ass down.” I muttered, and he laughed.</p><p>“Ah, sweetheart, I'm not the enemy.” I raised an eyebrow. “You just don’t KNOW me yet.” I snorted, loudly. “Never have I ever had sex with a stranger.” He didn’t drink, but I did. Shit. This was a horrible idea for a game. “Fuck, Evelyn, I think you’re a fucking package full of surprises aren’t you?”</p><p>I licked an errant drop of the burning alcohol from my bottom lip and saw his eyes focus on it. “Never have I ever kissed a stranger.” We both drank, and I was starting to feel the slight ease that comes with alcohol. The lightning of the tension that had built up from the moment I’d been forced to my knees in the dirt.</p><p>And it went, on and on, until I think we both felt far more friendly and happy. Not drunk, just pleasantly buzzed. “Never have I ever,” I studied him, thinking about the facts I’d learned so far, and smiled. “Fucked a student.” I didn’t drink, but he did. “Why Negan, aren’t you just a kinky little bastard.” I sat back in my seat and my grin grew. “So did she play naughty school girl and you were the randy professor?” He was watching my glee grow. “Oohh, did she wear the uniform? Or-” I closed my eyes and a laugh bubbled up, “you taught PE, was it a cheerleader uniform?” I opened my eyes to see him staring at me. I put on a pout and tilted my head as I twirled a lock of my hair around my finger. “Coach, I just don’t think I’m gonna be able to get the split just right, can I have a little extra help?” I’d made my voice a little breathless and I batted my eyelashes.</p><p>He snorted, and rolled his eyes. “She was an adult, asshole.” I laughed. “I’m not that fucking ridiculous.” I stared at him. “Never have I ever-” he bit his lip. “Been spanked, as an adult.” Thank goodness he added that in, because prior to his adulthood he’d no doubt worn a red ass as a constant. I drank, trying to take a smaller sip. Fuck, was one bottle empty already? And the other was surprisingly low. “Uh huh, drink it.” Shit. Fucker.</p><p>I swallowed the fully shot. Damn him. And his stupid fucking game. Wait, I picked this game, didn’t I? I was trying to think it through when he cleared this throat. “What?” I snapped, still picking through my memories of sitting down and this miserable game’s origin. I raised my eyes to his and he was smirking. “What?” I snapped again.</p><p>“Think you’re shitfaced, princess.” I glared. “Had a bit too much of your own medicine?”</p><p>“I’m not drunk.” I said, and I almost believed myself. “I’m NOT.” I admonished. And then I realized that he wasn't showing ANY of the signs of all the shots he’d taken. And he’d taken a fair few, but NOT nearly as many as me. “Never have I ever LIED during a game of ‘never have I ever’.” I glared at him as he started to laugh and took his own shot. Fucker. “You cheated.” I accused, feeling completely indignant that he’d dare to sully the sanctity of our game. I crossed my arms over my chest and sat there feeling so wronged.</p><p>“You are so fucking drunk, honey,” dimples and eyes fully loaded on this asshole across from me. “Think you should probably sleep that off.” I shot a look at his bed and felt my face flush. “Alone.” Ah, that’s unexpected.</p><p>“Fine.” I answered, standing up, and happy that I was more steady than my sluggish brain would have implied. “I’ll take the couch.” I hiccuped and sighed. Damn it. My wonderful plan, undone by this asshole.</p><p>Negan stood up, and took my arm. “Not fucking happening.” He walked me to the bed and pulled back the covers. “I may be a lot of fucking things, but I won’t let a lady take the couch.”</p><p>I rolled my eyes, and looked at the size of the bed. Thankful again that I wasn’t so drunk that I was seeing doubles. “Looks big enough to share, without touching.” I added, just to be clear.</p><p>He chuckled beside me. “Why, Miss Grimes, are you asking me to sleep with you?” I glared up at him, and he shocked me by brushing my hair out of my face. “Sleep. Sure.” And then he motioned to a door I hadn’t noticed. “Bathroom’s through there, if you need it.”</p><p>I did. I needed that bathroom more than I ever thought I’d need anything in my life. I rushed over and sighed at the sight of a toilet. I hadn’t realized just how badly I needed to go until he mentioned it. So closing the door behind me and rushing over, I took care of business. After I flushed, washed my hands, and took stock of myself in the mirror, I left the bathroom.</p><p>Negan was already in bed. His bed. And he was shirtless. And the sheets riding low enough to see that he had a happy trail low down on his stomach and my mouth went dry.  Shit. Who knew he looked like THAT under his clothes? Damn it. I shot a look at the couch.</p><p>“Evelyn.” Fuck, why hadn’t I noticed how deep his voice was? “Come to bed.” Shit. Why did that sound so fucking appealing?</p><p>I squared my shoulders and gave myself an internal pep talk. Reminding myself that I was Captain Evelyn Grimes, for fuck’s sake. I did NOT give in to my basic, primal urges anymore. Not on a whim. Not without thought and serious pro/con lists weighing the options. I kept the internal dialogue up until I reached the empty side of the bed, and kicked off my shoes to climb in.</p><p>“You’re not wearing all that shit to bed are you?” His damn voice drug me from my debate. “I’m not gonna make a fucking move, princess, I want you to be FULLY aware when we finally fuck.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow, but shrugged at the fact that sleeping fully clothed when I had options was a stupid move. Comfort, especially after drinking around two fucking bottles of booze that I hated the taste of, would be key to waking up and not wanting to die in the morning light. Unbuttoning my jeans, I was unzipping the zipper when I heard him shift slightly on the bed. Looking up, I saw his eyes locked on my hand. Oh, so he wanted a show? I took my time lowering the zipper, biting my lip to keep from laughing when I saw his Adam’s apple bob from his swallow. I opened the sides, tugging first one side, then the other down my hips. Keeping my eyes on him, I shimmied out of them and was very happy that I’d worn the one pair of pretty panties that had been clean in my small pile of clothes. I was bent over, my loose v-neck t-shirt hanging open so he could have a nice view down into the v of my cleavage. I heard him swallow this time. Victory.</p><p>When I stood up, he’d pulled the blankets back further, keeping himself covered, but giving me ample room to climb into the bed. I cleared my throat and his eyes met mine. “Thank you.” I laid back on the pillow on the side of the bed he’d left for me. “Night, Negan.”</p><p>“Night, Evelyn.” His voice sounded as raw as my nerves felt. Fuck, thank God I’d drank my weight in shitty booze, I thought as the drink pulled me under to sleep. Otherwise, sleep would be the furthest from my mind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Morning After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Who wins?  Both?  Neither?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunlight sucks. That’s how I felt when I woke up, the sun shining right the fuck in my fucking face, my throat and tongue so fucking dry that I wanted to drink anything.  Anything at all.  Except, as my head started pounding, except that fucking disgusting fucking alcohol that I’d drank the day and night before.  That shit would never fucking come near me again.  Ever.  Forever. </p><p>I groaned and heard his chuckle from behind me.  Ugh. Negan.  In the very harsh light of fucking day.  So bright the fucking light of fucking day.  Fuck.  </p><p>“You doin’ alright, princess?”  I buried my face in the pillow, hoping to kill the sunlight.  And his voice, and maybe my entire fucking life.  </p><p>“This sucks,” I said into the pillow and felt his laughter vibrate the bed.  “I hate you.”</p><p>I felt his hand on my back, the warmth burning through the fabric of my t-shirt.  “No, you hate the game you picked.  You hate the shit you drank.”  I groaned again, my stomach feeling like it wanted to freaking empty.  “You don’t hate me, at least not for THIS.”  His fingers were so long it felt like they spanned my whole back.  “And this does suck, cause trust me, sweetheart, I hadn’t planned on waking up to you like this.”  I waited, swallowing down the rising bile from the disgusting shit I’d imbibed.  “It was gonna suck, princess, but trust me, it was gonna suck in a much more pleasurable fucking way.”  His voice was very fucking low.  Shit, were my panties getting damp?  “Cause there are plenty of fucking places on you I want to suck on.”  Fuck.  I moaned into the pillow, hoping he’d take it as another groan.  “Get your ass up, I bet you’re thirsty.”  For you, you asshole, I thought.  </p><p>I squinted against the sun as I rolled over onto my side.  The side he happened to be on, I realized a moment too late.  Shit.  “I want to die.” I groaned, the dryness of my mouth making me sound like a pack a day smoker.  He was grinning down at me as I tried to fight against closing my eyes again.  “Water?”  I was pleading.  I didn’t care.  I would beg if necessary to get this taste out of my damn mouth.  To kill the desert feeling of my damn throat.  </p><p>Negan gave a quiet chuckle, seeming to get that I felt like death, and I felt the bed move as he rose and walked off.  And then he was back, holding a bottle of water and HOLY SHIT was that two Tylenol?  I worked to sit up against his headboard and waited as he opened the bottle and dropped the two pills into my hand.  Handing me the bottle, he watched as I took the pills and drank most of the bottle in one go.  I let my head lean back once I’d had my fill and held the bottle out for him to take.  He took it and shook his head.</p><p>“Anything else, princess?”  I glared at him and he smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed.  He was still shirtless, and only wearing his boxers.  Fuck.  Damn it.  I was more than certain that I didn’t look that fucking edible.  “You look-” I felt my glare grow and he chuckled.  “Not bad.”  He finished lamely.  </p><p>Ugh.  Too bad the only thing I could throw at him was a pillow, and that wouldn’t inflict the fucking damage I wanted to hand him.  No, I wanted him to feel like I did.  Death and pain.  </p><p>“I will never,” ugh that fucking word.  “I won’t drink that shit again.”  </p><p>“Not ever.”  I glared at him and felt like punching him in his unprotected dick.  He caught the look and smiled, those fucking dimples of his deepening.  “Not gonna want to play that game again either, I guess.”  </p><p>“Fuck you.”  I groaned, feeling the headache lessening slightly, very slightly.  </p><p>Negan’s smile grew.  “Later, maybe.”  And then the fucker winked at me.  </p><p>“Good luck with that,” I muttered, internally telling my body to calm the fuck down at the mere thought of being under him.  Of touching his bare skin.  Of tracing his tattoos with my fingers and then my tongue.  Shit.  I swallowed hard.  I was fucking thirsty alright.  He handed the water bottle back to me.  And I finished it.  “I hope you have more,” I offered, handing the empty bottle back.  </p><p>“As much as you need, sweetheart.”  God, how did that sound sexy?  It was a promise of more fucking water, for fuck’s sake.  </p><p>I closed my eyes, letting them rest from the onslaught of sunlight.  I felt tired, as though I hadn’t slept at all, which I suppose I hadn’t.  Passing out didn’t count, probably.  </p><p>“Why don’t you lie back down, Evelyn?”  I didn’t open my eyes. “Get some more rest.”  Tempting, just like the devil, but damn it if I didn’t want to.</p><p>“Gonna tuck me in?” I teased, still not opening my eyes.</p><p>I felt his hands on my arms, sliding along the bare skin and the tingle run through me.  “Since you asked so nicely.”  His voice was close, the heat of him flowing over me.  He was gentle as he pulled me down, cradling my head with one hand until it met the pillow again.  I opened my eyes and saw his face right in front of mine.  Close enough to touch, and so I did, I rubbed my nose against his.  “I don’t think that’s what you need just now, sweetheart.”</p><p>“Eskimo kisses?” I whispered, letting my no doubt disgusting morning after breath flow over his lips.  “I think Eskimo kisses are warranted any time of day.”  My eyes were on his and I could see how dark they’d grown.  “Negan?”  </p><p>“Yes?”  His voice was still rough, and I smiled at the sound of it.  </p><p>“Kiss me.”  It was a request.  And I wanted it as much as I had wanted the water.  And, just like he’d provided one, he seemed powerless to deny me the other.</p><p>His lips brushed mine, and I felt him holding back.  Planning on a simple kiss, but that’s not what I’d asked for, so my hands found the back of his head and tangling in his hair, I held him to me.  Opening up my mouth and grazing his bottom lip with my teeth, I smiled when he sighed and took over.  The kiss deepened, but his hands were cupping my cheeks, holding me like I was made of glass.  </p><p>“I won’t break,” I whispered as our lips parted for a split second and I heard him groan.  And then his hips were cradled between the v of my thighs, his boxers and my now more than a little damp panties all that kept our heat apart.  He rocked into me and I felt it.  How much he wanted me.  And I knew, from the hiss that followed that rocking, that he felt how much I wanted him.  “More.”  I whispered, as he pulled his mouth from mine.  And he rocked into me again and I arched up into him.  I bit his bottom lip, and smiled when he moaned.  </p><p>Negan’s hands found the hem of my shirt and letting me sit up slightly it was over my head and tossed to some far corner of his room.  Then my bra, and his hands and mouth moved to taste and tease my skin.  Shit.  His lips brushed my neck, nipping gently at the skin of my shoulder, before nosing his way down to my chest.  Lips, teeth, and tongue tempted and tasted my skin.  Licking my nipple, sucking at the tip, his moan vibrating my skin when my fingers tugged on his hair.  </p><p>“My turn,” I said, when his eyes met mine from where he’d buried his face against the soft skin of my stomach.  I pulled him up my body and then rolled him onto his back.  Straddling his stomach, Jesus, that fucking stomach I leaned forward and kissed him with all the pent up need I felt.  Nibbling on his lower lip, I licked and sucked my own path down his neck.  Grazing his skin with my teeth, I could feel his hands sliding along my bare back, then cradling my head to him.  My lips found the tattoo of a pirate, and I pulled away to trace it with my fingertip.  “Pirate?”  </p><p>He chuckled, and my eyes met his.  “Every man wants to be a pirate, sweetheart.”  I replaced my finger with the tip of my tongue and felt him twitch under me.  “Jesus, woman.”  </p><p>I smiled and moved my hands along his arms.  On the left, a sort of cartoon sun scene, that I took my time getting intimate knowledge of, fingertips, my lips, and Negan’s hands trying to decide whether to clutch at me or to grab at the sheets.  Dipping lower on his arm, I smiled as my lips met another piece of ink. Indistinct, a cross of some sort, but I didn’t want to miss anything. Especially not when I was driving him insane.   I hummed as I kissed along his stomach, ignoring all the parts of him that I REALLY wanted to explore, because now that I had him at my mercy I fully intended to take advantage of it.  </p><p>“Bisou?  Kiss?”  I asked, holding his right arm and tracing the script of the word.  “Why, Negan, I didn’t know you knew French.”  He was fighting against himself, I could tell, the urge to roll my ass over and move things along was evident from not just his very hard cock pressing into me as I kept moving lower, but also from the tension I could feel in his muscles.  I nibbled on the word, smiling at his groan.  And then moved upward, to another cross.  Damn, was he religious, or hedging his fucking bets.  “I’m starting to wonder, Negan, should we have attended mass this morning, you know?”  My finger traced the darkness of this tattoo.  “Since you seem to be fairly covered with these.”  My tongue licked the darkest part, and I felt him inhale.  </p><p>Smiling at the stillness I’d created, at the quiet and the power I felt being over him, I moved down his body again.  Nuzzling at that happy trail of hair I’d noticed last night, I planted open mouthed kisses along the waistband of his boxers.  My fingers dipped into the elastic, tugging and pulling, moving so I was sitting between the v of his legs.  “Lift up,” I ordered, and then I was tugging his shorts down, over his hardness and off his legs.  I locked my eyes on his as I lowered my mouth and licked a long stripe up his length.  “Still not gonna break, Negan.”  I offered, smiling at his fists bunching up the sheets under him.  And as though I broke the spell, he’d pulled me up and then I was on my back and he was over top of me.  </p><p>“Enough teasing,” he growled and then his lips crashed against mine and I heard a loud rip and laughed.  Well so much for those pretty panties of mine.  And then, with one smooth move, we were joined.  “Shit.”  He groaned, forced to pull away from my mouth at the feeling.  “Fuckity fuck fuck.”  And then I rolled my hips and his face buried in my shoulder.  “Jesus, Evelyn, are ya tryin’ to fucking kill me?”  </p><p>My laugh was breathless.  For fuck’s sake, who fucking knew that it would feel like THIS to fuck the enemy?  Then we were moving, his mouth alternating between sucking, licking, and biting my shoulder, depending on how I answered his thrusts.  The climb toward my first climax built, as I felt his hands move to my hips and squeeze.  The first pounded through me, and then I lost count.  Over and over it seemed, moaning and begging, both of us.  For more, for faster, for harder.  </p><p>“Right there,” I breathed, as he moved his hips slightly, “right fucking there, Negan.”  And he more than obliged.</p><p>Then I was on top of him, and then we were sitting up, and he was telling me how fucking hot I looked riding him.  “Jesus, princess, fuck yes.”  I’d ground my body down on his, taking his full length and building the friction between us to a fever pitch.  “Goddamn it,” he bit out, and then his mouth was on mine and he was swallowing the scream that came from another fucking orgasm.  </p><p>By the time he finally followed me through one last shaking climax, I’d lost count of time.  The sun looked far lower than when I’d opened my eyes, but then again, a storm could be building.  I couldn’t possibly have had marathon sex with Negan of all people.  Yet, as he cradled me to him, our bodies slick with sweat, our limbs tingling and tangling, I realized that I had.  I had had marathon sex with Negan.  A man who killed two people in front of me, who took both me and Daryl hostage.  A man who’d nearly made my own brother cut off the arm of my nephew.  And as I started to drift off, I wondered, what the fuck was wrong with me?</p>
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